


Perfect Spot

by waterbird13



Series: Tumblr Fics [392]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Impala Sex, M/M, NSFW, Rimming, Semi Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 19:04:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9916844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: Dean finds the perfect space.





	

“Dean,” Sam says, trying to inject as much patience into his voice as possible. “If you don’t find somewhere for us to get out of this damn car in the next five minutes, I will not be responsible for my actions.” Sam thinks he manages to keep his voice relatively level for having spent seven and a half hours cooped up with his brother, but Dean must hear something in his voice, because he looks over at Sam sharply.

“Alright, alright,” he mutters. “Working on it.”

It takes him four minutes, and he pulls off on a deserted access road that dead-ends behind some trees. It clearly once went somewhere, but washed out long ago, no money left in the budget to fix it. Dean grins.

Sam rolls his eyes. “Seriously?” he says, and he knows he just asked to get out of the car, but is it too much to ask for somewhere with a Quick-Mart? At least a vending machine?

Dean is still grinning. “Yeah, seriously,” he says. “This is a perfect spot.”

“Perfect spot for what?” Sam asks, knowing he’s walking right into something but he can’t help but ask.

“Perfect spot to bend you over the hood and eat your ass out until you come everywhere,” Dean says without missing a beat.

Sam blinks, trying to gain some equilibrium back. “Seriously?” he repeats.

“Seriously,” Dean echoes. “Want it?”

Sam pretends to consider, but he knows what his answer is. He moves over to the hood, Dean right behind him, reaching around to unbutton Sam’s pants, unzip them, and pull them down to Sam’s knees.

“Lean forward,” Dean instructs, so Sam does, bracing himself on the hood.

Dean presses light, teasing kisses to Sam’s ass before parting his cheeks, leaning in and wasting no more time, licking a stripe up Sam’s ass before focusing on his hole.

He kisses and sucks at the rim, making Sam squirm and moan—and he hopes this area is really as deserted at it looks—before tracing it lightly with his tongue once, twice, then pushing his way inside, turning Sam into a gasping pile of mush on the hood on the car.

It’s so good but not enough, so Sam reaches down to jerk himself off, and it doesn’t take much before he’s coming all over his own hand, a few stray drops caught on the hood of the Impala. He gasps, moans Dean’s name, then falls forward, trusting the car to support him while he gets his breath back.

Dean gets to his feet as Sam struggles to get back to his. “What can I do for you?” Sam asks.

Dean wiggles a hand that Sam belatedly realizes is a mess. “Couldn’t help myself, Sammy,” he says, grinning. “You’re just so damn pretty.”

Sam takes the hand and sucks Dean’s index finger clean, looking Dean in the eyes as he does so. Dean gasps and pulls away after a moment.

“No more,” he says. “Tryin’ to kill me, I swear,” he mutters, going to the trunk to pull out a rag. 

They both clean up, and then Dean pushes Sam against the driver’s door. “Good break?” he asks, eyebrows wiggling.

Sam doesn’t answer, instead leans in to kiss him, then pushes at him enough to get out from between him and the car, heading back over to the passenger’s side.

Dean is grinning as he slides behind the wheel. “Just think, Sammy,” he says. “Only three hours to go.”

Sam groans, and wonders if they can possibly fit in another rest break.


End file.
